


A New Jerseyan Winter

by Two_DollarBILL



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Backupsmore(they're only there breifly), Bad Parents, Bisexual Fiddleford McGucket, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gay Characters, Gay Stanford Pines, Glass Shard Beach, Hanukkah, Homophobia, Jewish Ford, Jweish Pines Family, M/M, New Jersey, Pines home, Snow, Trans Character, Trans Fiddleford H. McGucket, Winter Break, Winter Time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-05-21 18:04:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14920274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Two_DollarBILL/pseuds/Two_DollarBILL
Summary: Fiddleford convinces Ford to let him stay with him for winter break and to meet his parents.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for how short this first chapter is,, I'm working on chapter two and it will be out soon!

The few trees that littered the campus of Backupsmore rustled as a strong wind wisped through bare branches. Students almost ran from class to class in an attempt to avoid the biting cold of the December air. Winter had arrived and it was prevalent in the weather as well as in the attitudes of the collegers. Most were happily going about, excited that within the next few days they were permitted to leave from the putrid college and go home for a couple weeks. Even though the vast majority of students were happy that they had to leave campus, a few, a small few, were saddened by this. One of those small few included Stanford Pines.

He dreaded any holiday time or break; for one thing, it was a waste of time! He could be getting so much work done in the time spent by others lazing around. Even though he hated that he would have lost time which could be spent studying or learning or improving upon his knowledge, what he really hated was that winter break meant he had to go home.

To his family.

Among all of the worst places, the Pines home had to rank around top three, only placing second to places like the ADX or Hell. Every family outing that Ford went on as a child ended up in disaster. Somebody would do something that would set his pops off and from there it only got worse. When pops started to cross the line between shouting, to screaming, to physical ministrations, that's when ma would intervene. She would tell the kids to get out of the car, (which is where the fighting would usually occur; never infront of public eyes; Filbrick would hate to cause a scene), where they would try to find something to do while they pretended not to hear the yelling match happening only a few feet away from them.

Ten minutes was the decider; if the fight went on past 10 minutes, the twins always knew that it was better to just walk home themselves, despite how far the walk back home was, because when their parent’s fight went past the ten minute mark, that either meant that the fight would last long enough to a point where it would become more practical to walk home themselves, or their pops would just yell out the car window to walk home and then drive off.

If the fight lasted less than ten minutes, that means that ma was victorious in convincing pops to calm down enough so that the small, broken family could have a painfully quiet ride home; quite but at least without yelling or violence.

When the family was at home or having a normal day, most of what the families respective members were doing was monopolized by Filbrick. Even Opal Pines was restricted from doing what she wanted to do sometimes because of him. Ford saw this and always wondered why his ma didn't just divorce him, but he never had the guts to bring it up to her.

All of these horrible behaviors performed by Filbrick occured throughout all of the years leading up to the night Stanley was expelled from the Pines home, (albeit it was not as though they stopped then; he was as much as a brute as ever, perhaps even more so after a teen Stanley was kicked out).

Because of all of this, Ford believes that he has decent reasoning as for why he doesn't want to venture home for winter break. However, despite the fact that the way Filbrick parented Ford and his twin was less than ideal, and even though all of the things that he did were horrible feats, there was still yet another reason to be added to the, unfortunately, growing list of reasons why Ford doesn't want to go home for winter break: Among all of Filbricks unagreeable viewpoints, his open conservativeness left Ford in a tizzy, particularly because Filbrick probably wasn't too keen on his son bring his boyfriend to stay with him in his childhood home.

Fiddleford had innocently suggested that he stay with Ford during winter break, not realizing that there is a snowball's chance in hell of that being an actual, feasible possibility. Ford loved him very much but knew that he couldn't just show up back at his home after avoiding visiting for months and say, “Hi pops, meet my very much gay boyfriend who will be staying with us during the break! Ha, ha…”

As soon as Fidds had suggested it, Ford had attempted to discreetly discourage the idea as best he could, making up petty excuses why it just wouldn't work out.

Among all of the Filbrick Problems™ pertaining to why it wouldn't work, there was also the fact the Ford was, indeed, a terrible liar. There was a 0% chance of him keeping Fiddlefords and his relationship a secret. If he was honest with himself, he knew it was because he was too much of a romantic.

Having a boyfriend in his youth was never really an option. With his father constantly keeping an eye on him, always appearing out of seemingly nowhere, Ford was never able to do anything without his permission or at least knowledge of its happening. This meant no dates, no stolen kisses, no boyfriends. Unfortunately for Ford, that also meant that he was coerced to go on forced dates with girls he hardly knew that were usually set up by Stanley, (though it wasn't his fault as Ford happened to avoid telling him of his preferences).

Because of this Ford, was never able to expresses his very sappy romantic side which only seemed all the more prevalent since he started dating. He could have sworn that the longer he dated someone, the sappier he became! Since this was currently happening in his relationship with Fiddleford, he knew that they were bound to get caught just because of Ford being so blatantly and obviously in love.

xxx

Currently, Ford and Fiddleford were walking back from their Advanced Mathematics and Quantum Theory class. Seeing as the college grounds were deserted, (whether this was because of the thick snow pouring down from the grey skies, or because most of Backupsmore’s stellar students had decided to skip class, Ford wasn’t sure), the closeted couple decided it was safe to hold hands.

It was quite romantic really, but also nauseatingly cliché of them, to have their hands joined together, Fords six fingers perfectly encasing Fiddlefords five, while strolling back to their dorm as snow falls around them, covering trees, buildings, the whole grounds in a delicate layer of fresh and untouched snow. Ford glanced over to his left where Fiddleford was watching in amazement as thin and crystal like snowflakes floated down from the sky. His nose and cheeks were flushed due to the cold, but his eyes were wide in awe.

“Wow,” he breathed, a little cloud forming in front of him from where he had whispered the word. Fidds glasses became slightly fogged as he tilted his head up marginally to watch in wonderment as the sky showered down thousands of perfectly crafted soupçons of snow. Stanford could've sworn that a snowflake even landed on one of Fidds delicate eyelashes, and he chuckled to himself. It was adorable how starstruck the man was by the sight of snow.

Upon realizing that Ford was quietly laughing to himself, Fiddleford looked over at his partner.

“What?” Fiddleford inquired with a questioning look on his face.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing,” Ford replied, face contorted in a lopsided smile, clear in his expression that there was something he wasn't letting on.

“No, no, you can tell me,” Fiddleford answered in turn, insistent to find out what Ford had found to be so funny, (though he already had his suspicions that it had something to do with him).

“Well, it’s just that,” Ford looked away from Fiddleford to finish his thought, not able to look Fidds in the eyes as he said something as mawkish as what he was about to say. “...you look really cute.”

Fiddleford rolled his eyes and attempted a feigned unimpressed look but the small smile that graced his features betrayed his thoughts. He ended up laughing as he looked over at Stanford, shaking his head.

“You sap,” he laughed. Stanford’s face now adorned a light red colour dusting over his cheeks, which was only in part due to the cold weather. He then cleared his throat and abruptly changed the subject, eager to divert some of the embarrassing attention called upon himself because of his over compensated lovesickness onto to something else, (and Fiddleford was kind enough to not bring light to him so obviously doing this).

“So Fiddleford, I know that you are very adamant about staying at my house for winter break bu-”

“Oh yes! I'm very excited to go!” Instead of Stanford finishing his earlier statement, he decided to query Fiddleford.

“Why is this such a big deal to you?” Stanford asked, genuinely wondering why he was so instrangient about this.

“Well,” Fiddleford started, “Our relationship, and what we have, isn’t really accepted in society, and because of that, we miss out on things that other couples do that appear mundane in nature but they are things I still wish we could do, like going to the movies, or refer to each other as anything other than just friends,” he sighed, watching the ground as an endless waterfall of snowflakes doted the earth, “Sometimes, I wish that we could have a normal relationship; one where people don’t care about the gender of the person we love,” upon realising the possible double meaning to these words, Fiddleford then worriedly glanced over to Stanford, a nervous smile flittering over his lips, “Not that there’s anything wrong with adjourning from the norm,” he gave Stanfords hand a squeeze, and Stanford nodded in understanding. Fiddleford gave him a small, real smile, then sighed before continuing. “It’s just, sometimes it would be nice to be able to do ordinary couple things, like hold hands in public, or meeting your partner's parents,” Stanfords eyes widened in realization, “We’ve been dating for awhile and I just thought that I should meet your parents, and you've already met mine and even though I wouldn't be introduced as your boyfriend, it would still be nice to become acquainted with them,” Fiddleford shrugged at the end of his explication.

Silence followed Fiddlefords words though it was not awkward. The silence was short lived and would have been pleasant if it was not for Stanfords mind running a million thoughts per minute.

When Ford had met Fidds parents all that time ago, (in truth it had really only been a few months ago, but, still), the meeting didn't feel in anyway similar to the feeling that one might expect to experience when meeting the parents of your partner. Instead, Ford had hardly realized the significance of meeting Avielle and Barley McGucket. That trip had been… interesting to say the least, (Fiddleford forgot to let Ford know that he told his parents about their relationship, so the whole time Ford was at the McGucket's he acted weird around Fiddleford, jumping at even the smallest amount of physical contact they made; even if it was because of Fiddleford accidentally bumping into him, he would freak out and act like he had been shocked. On top of that, Ford had started to watch some of the sports games on the small T.V. in the den with Fiddlefords father, Barley, while Fiddleford watched on, flabbergasted. Ford hated sports. When Fiddleford later asked Ford why he was acting so bizarre, and after Fiddleford had cleared everything up, Ford simply replied that he was trying to act like how, “a straight man would,” to which Fiddleford just shook his head and laughed lovingly at his ever so careful boyfriend and his attempts at being subtle).

For some reason, Ford felt as though everything would become a hundred times more real feeling if Fiddleford met with his parents. Right now, he felt as if as long as their relationship remained a secret, it would be okay, but if more people started finding out, it wouldn't. It was almost as if he were living in denial of something and he felt a bit crazy to be thinking in such a way. Despite how he felt, Ford really didn't want to let Fidds down; he seemed so happy about meeting them! Stanford continued to ponder all that he had said. Upon further contemplation, Stanford reluctantly decided that this wasn't something he could take away from Fiddleford; he deserved a bit of normality in his life; they were going to go back to New Jersey for winter break and Fiddleford was going to meet his parents. Besides, it was only fair.

“You know what?” Ford said, “It would be nice,” he looked over at Fiddleford who was now looking back at him, surprised. Ford gave an awkward half smile, to which Fiddleford took as him ‘approving of’ him staying in New Jersey, as well as meeting his parents.

“That’s wonderful!” Fiddleford turned to Ford suddenly, letting go of his hand and bringing them both up to Fords cheeks in one fluid motion. He held his face in his hands as he pulled him into a quick but passionate kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a rollercoaster of emotions, broh

Ford groaned as he watched for the train that he and Fiddleford were supposed to catch. According to the board, and the very much annoyed teenager whom he kept interrogating every five minutes or so to see when his train would come, it was going to be a long wait. Something about snow getting in the way and obstructing the trains path or some bullshit.

This was the first day that Stanford has not attended class, studied, or even read a book because the whole day was spent with Fidds and him trying to get to New Jersey. Ford was becoming exponentially more agitated and irritable with every passing second, almost as if he was having withdrawls from not doing anything academic, (and Fiddleford had teased him as much).

Ford was still frustrated about the train situation-they had been waiting there for over an hour now!- so he confronted the front desk... again.

“Hi, yeah me again. When is the train coming? Because my friend and I here--” he was cut off by Fiddleford who was sitting near the desk on a bench reading a magazine.  
Without looking up from it, he interjected, “Don't drag me into this.” Stanford sighed.

“Fine. I,” he drew out the word, “Am getting frustrated because I have been waiting for over an hour now when you promised me thirty minutes ago that the train would be here by 11 o'clock!”

“Sir, as I've told you before,” he started out in a monotone, bored voice, “I have no control over the train, nor do I have control over the weather. The train will be arriving, but I do not know exactly when, I only know approximations. I am sorry for any inconvenience this has caused you, but I can’t do anything about it.”

Ford just grunted and then pouted his way back to where Fidd's was sitting, acting like a petulant child.

“Stanford, will you leave the kid alone?” Fiddleford chided as soon as Ford sat down, crossing his arms, “There's no point in asking him when you know he can’t do anything about it.”

“Are you siding with him?”

“What?”

“Are you siding with him?”

“No!”

“Well it sure sounds like your siding with him.”

“I ain’t sidin’ with nobody!” Ford started to retort again but Fiddleford cut him off, “Ford this is stupid. I don't want to spend all day bickerin’! If we’re going to have to wait for the train to arrive, then we might as well wait while acting like the adults we are, not fightin’ like cats and dogs!”

Ford sighed in defeat, knowing Fiddleford was right; he was always right when it came to Ford’s rare, but not non-existent, impulsive behavior.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay,” Fiddleford smiled, though his smile looked strained, “so, um, I’ve been meaning to ask a few things about when we get to your house,” Ford nodded and Fiddlefords thin smile fell away and was replaced by a look of worry, “well, It’s just--how did your parents react to finding out I was coming? Were they mad? Mad at me? Mad at you? Do you think their suspicious? Oh, I've just been worryin’ myself something’ awful thinkin’ about their reactions and-”

“They don’t know.”

“Th-they, what? They don’t know?” Fiddleford sat there for a second before frowning, “well why didn’t you tell them I was coming along with you?”

“They don’t even know I’m coming.”

Fiddleford looked aloof, “What do you mean you didn't tell them you were coming?! Yer’ just going to show up? There’s no way that--”

“I know that it’s not going to go over well but what else should I do? Call in advance and have to listen to my ma chide my ear off for never calling or visiting? And then tell her I’m bringing along a “friend” to stay with me??” Stanford sighed, “or having to listen to her tell me about how bad off Sta--he is. I just, I don’t know. I just thought that it would be better to randomly show up at the doorstep so that she’d be too surprised by the visit to actually inquire the true meaning of my visiting there, among other things; so that hopefully we can skip pass all of the parts that I don’t want to talk about.” Ford watched his feet. “My family is.. It’s, well, It’s different from most others, I think. It’s unpredictable; there are sporadic emotions and an almost constant amount of unbearable tension about something, they can never just let something go,” in a quieter voice he added, “they never just let some things blow over…” Fiddleford looked down at his boyfriend, as he was slouching quite a bit in his chair, with sadness and empathy in his eyes, “I wish it wasn’t like that, I mean who wouldn't, really? The problem is that I don’t even know what the first thing to mend our familial relationship would be, let alone fix my relationship with, with S-Stanley…, all I know is that... I, I don’t know how to fix it.”

Ford hadn't even realized how his voice had cracked at that last sentence, or the fact that there were a few stray tears running down his face until Fiddleford brushed them away.

Oh , darlin’, I would have never put all of this pressure on you to stay with them if I had known what stress this would cause you.” He gently grabbed Ford’s hand and started rubbing soothing circles over the top of it with his thumb. But upon hearing a disgusted throat clear from the counter and a quiet murmur, (though it seemed thunderous to FIddleford’s ears), of, “unnatural queers,” he reluctantly let Stanford’s hand go, feeling his cheeks heat up out of anger and embarrassment, cursing himself for being too scared to comfort Ford with physical affection.

Ford wipes away the rest of his tears and then cleared his throat, regaining his usual composure, “No, I, I was going to need to confront this some time or another I'm just, I’m just glad that I get to do it with… you.” He turned to look at Fiddleford whose previous demeanor had completely changed as he was now beaming at Ford. Ford is as sweet as he is ridiculous what with all of the cheesy sayings he carts out.

Suddenly, the ground slightly rumbled as Ford looked up in time to see their train arrive. “Finally,” he thought.

Ford cast a look at Fidds, “I guess we should get going then?“ Fiddleford nodded and grabbed his suitcases while Ford grabbed his own. They boarded the train and settled in for the 3-hour long journey to Ford's hometown, wondering how this would all exactly go down; both hoping for the best, but expecting the worse.

xxx

“Here it is,” Ford was behind the steering wheel of his rented car as it sat at a standstill at the beginning of his street. His street was on a slight curve so from their position at the edge of the block, his house was visible. Fiddleford looked on with great interest.

“So, this is really where you grew up, huh?” This was met with a sharp nod, with Ford’s gaze never leaving his house.

Cold winds rustled over the desolate landscape. The town, never one for being busy, looked even more vacant than before, and Ford was continually surprised how any of the businesses along here were immune from bankruptcy. His thoughts then wondered to that of his own parent’s business, and then just to his parents.

They were older now than they were a few years back, (well, obviously), however, they weren’t too old yet, though they definitely weren’t spry. He found himself wishing that they had moved to somewhere else by this point in their lives, perhaps to a house that wasn’t filled with dreadful memories of which he desperately fought to forget. Fiddleford’s face creased with worry as he watched Ford stare down his home in a way which was both completely apathetic and erupting with emotions.

“Ford-- you okay?” This elicited not much more of a response than his last inquiry, and he began to get even more thoughts about how this was a horrible idea--what had he gotten them into?  
Just when Fiddleford thought that Ford was finally going to accelerate down to his home, he abruptly made a U-turn, which completely caught Fidd’s off guard as Ford swung the wheel around.

“HEYY Stanford? What are you doing?!” He asked frantically. Ford just kept on driving. This continued on for a few minutes, Ford’s driving becoming how it usually is, and not nearly as chaotic as before. Fiddleford, judging by Ford’s behavior, assumed that they were just heading back to the train station when he realized that Ford was taking them to a… beach?

Ford had yet to say a word, and this worried Fiddleford further. He simply got out of the car--despite the freezing weather-- and walked out until he was near where the ocean broke against the littered sand. He then promptly sat down and stared out at the water, watching small whitecaps rise and then fall again. Fiddleford worried for his partners mental health--had he completely just lost it? -- when he saw Ford move his hand move in a beckoning motion; he wanted Fidd’s to sit with him. Fiddleford found no reason not to comply, so he did so. They watched the ocean together for a while, Fidd’s deciding that it was best to keep the silence until Ford decided to talk, and it wasn’t too long until he eventually did.

“This is… harder than I thought it was going to be,” Fidd’s could only look at him with sympathy, “I’m not really sure what I expected but, I wasn’t expecting to fall apart just by seeing my old home,” He grabbed a six-fingered fistful of sand before letting out a hollow laugh, “and I haven’t even seen them yet, this is so--oh my god this is pathetic,” He couldn’t even look Fidd’s in the eye -- this was so embarrassing.

“Hey now, there’s nothin’ wrong with feeling worried to see yer family after not seeing them in so long. Especially with your… family history, feeling hesitant to see them again is normal -- I would even go so far as to say that it’s healthy even! -- you have to give yourself a break, Ford; not everyone had to grow up and deal with what you’ve dealt with,” He offered Ford a smile which Ford weakly returned. As much as he appreciated Fidd’s comforting him, he hated that he even needed to be comforted. He just needed to snap out of whatever this weird haze was that he’s in, man up, and face his parents! He’s an adult now, he doesn’t have to abide by them and follow their every whim. And, hell! If it gets really bad he can just walk right out the door with no repercussions and still have his life in order; he’d have his classes, boyfriend, part time job, (in a way-- getting compensation for tutoring is a job!) he’d still be fine, unlike… he shook his head. No. He can’t think about that right now… or ever for that matter. He felt better now, after listening to Fidd’s comforting words, as well as the rhythmic beat of the ocean.

He wrapped an arm around Fiddleford as they sat together on the beach. He wasn’t sure how they always ended up in these ridiculously cliché` moments but, hey! He wasn’t complaining!

He enjoyed continuing to watch the waves which had comforted him so many times as a child; when he felt down, or low, or not good enough, he’d stay on this beach for hours at a time, just watching the beautiful mechanical function of the waves, until he would feel better. Now that he came back to this beach as an adult, the effects of the waves were no different.

He hated that his college was in a bordered in state -- he couldn’t understand how Fiddleford had grown up without a beach. It was sometimes the only constant in his life, and being a creature of habit, constants were comforting.

Ford leaned his head onto Fiddleford’s shoulder and sighed in content, “I can go to the house now; I think I’m finally ready to approach my parents,” Fiddleford smiled at that but had a slightly different idea.

“How about we just stay here -- just for a little bit longer? Then we can go to the house?” Ford nodded, more than okay with the idea.

He had just settled back into watching the rhythms of the waves when he heard a faint voice protruding through the wind; it was a higher voice, almost… girlish? Apparently, it had caught Fiddleford’s attention too, as he was now squinting off into the distance from where he thought the voice was coming from. He lifted a hand to hover over his eyes as he searched the beach; in the distance, he saw what appeared to be a small child running at full speed towards them.

“Stanford -- are you seeing this?” Ford frowned as he responded, “well…, yes.” They decidedly stood up as the child got closer and closer, breaking out into a full sprint, seemingly becoming more enthusiastic the closer they got. The child was soon close enough so that the couple could see it was a young girl in a long dress with lengthy hair. Her arms were spread open as if ready to engulf one of them in a hug. The girl smiled brightly as she got nearer to the couple, and something about her face became eerily familiar as Stanford suddenly realized who she was. He felt all of the colour drain from his face, leaving Fidd's entirely confused as the girl shrieked his name at the top of her lungs.

“STANFORD!!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford sees someone who he hasn't seen in a long time.

Ford felt the sand crumple beneath his grasping fist as he became tackled into a hug by the little girl.

“YOU’RE HERE, YOU’RE HERE, YOU’RE HERE, YOU’RE HERE!” she continued chanting while Fiddleford tried to figure out what in the heck was going on.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M FINALLY GETTING TO SEE YOU—IN REAL LIFE!” the girl only seemed to talk in screeches. Stanford couldn’t help but awkwardly laugh as he tried to get to his feet, though it was to little avail.

“H-Hey Shermie,” he awkwardly gave her a little wave as she continued to hug him. He then—even more awkwardly, (if that was possible)—stiffly put his arms around her and attempted to hug her back. She finally let off him and grinned, offering him a hand up. He politely declined with a shake of the head and a fond, however nervous, smile.

“Sorry that I kind of… knocked you over,“ the girl explained, “I just wasn’t sure if it was you or not but then when I saw that it was you, I just got so excited because I haven't seen you in person before!”

At this, Ford felt an immense amount of guilt—he had hardly remembered that he even _had_ a sister. It was just--when she was born, everything had been so crazy. And then… the _incident_ happened, and he left for college, so he didn’t have a lot of time to get to know her at all. The most interactions they had before was with Ford being forced to babysit her by his mother while she grieved the essential loss of her exiled son.

He weirdly coughed as he said, “We’ve seen each other before—you were just a baby, so you don’t remember is all,” His pathetic attempt at justifying his being a horrible brother wasn’t even passing his own expectations, so he didn’t really believe that she bought it. But it hardly mattered since she was just so excited to see him. He really and truly hoped that they wouldn’t have to return to this topic later... perhaps someday they would when she's old enough to hold a conversation and stay on the same topic for more than a minute at a time.

It was at this time when Stanford looked over at Fiddleford for help with what to say next, when he realized that Fiddleford was still completely lost. However, surely with that brilliant mind of his he had put together some of the pieces by now. Apparently, Shermie is just as smart since she decided to help out the man by greeting him in a manner which was much more formal than how she apparently greeted family. She held out her delicate hand for him to shake as she introduced herself.

“Hiya, Mister! My name is Shermie Lanola Pines, and I’m his sister!” she happily shook his hand while giggling at Fidds’ amused face.

“Well, it’s very nice tah meetcha’ Miss Shermie,“ the title amused the small child so she gave a small laugh, her face scrunching up in a smile, “My name is Fiddleferd Hadron McGucket!” Shermie started snickering as he gave her an inquisitive look.

“You have a funny accent,” she pointed out, giggling. Fidds laughed good naturedly.

“Well, I suppose I do,” since everyone had been acquainted, Ford decided to ask an important question.

“Hey… Sherm,” He paused, as if testing out the nickname. She didn’t cringe like he supposed she might, so he took that as a green light, “How did you know that I would be out here?” Shermie paused for a minute as she searched her memories, as if the events of the past 10 minutes had occurred years ago.

“Well, I was just wandering’ the beach like always when I saw you! I recognized you from some of the pictures Ma showed me!” Fiddleford frowned at this and Ford knew exactly why; Ford was sure that he was wondering, “Now what type of parents let their young daughter out on the beach alone without supervision during the crux of winter?” Ford could easily answer this question by replying with the names of his parents. Shermie obliviously started to babble on about something random while Ford got lost in his thoughts.

Seeing Shermie meant that he really couldn't get out of this. He wasn't lying when he said that he was ready to face them, he just wished that any of his family members hadn’t accidentally run into them, metaphorically or literally, (as “literally” happened to be the case), because before, he could go on _his_ terms, but now, he was sort of forced to go regardless of his own will. It was now inevitable.

Now that Ford had his thoughts sorted, he supposed that he might as well be the first to introduce the thought that they should go see their parents, however, Shermie was still in the middle of telling a story to Fiddleford that had him completely captivated… that or Fidds was just feigning that expression to make her feel like what she’s saying is important and matters…, knowing how sweet he is, it’s probably the latter.

“... and then I realized that I had already FOUND that type of shell before so then I had to go back to my collection and check to see all of my shells just to be sure, and then I removed it and returned it to the ocean! But then I remembered that someone told me if you took shells from the ocean and don’t return them, a mermaid DIES!!”

“Oh no!” Fiddleford reacted in an exaggerated manner.

“YES!” Shermie agreed, “It’s horrible! So, then I had to--” she continued on, but Ford tuned out again, suddenly as captivated by what he was seeing as Fiddleford was with Shermie's tale. Ford saw Fidds and Sherm interact, but specifically how Fidds interacted with Shermie. He had never thought of himself as someone wanting the domestic life—he had always been one for the unconventional, and he considered himself a bit adventurous -- not someone to settle down! But in that moment, all he wanted was a domestic life and that domestic bliss everyone who's settled down seems to crone about. “ _What is wrong with me_?” he thought. Would he seriously trade all of his aspirations and scientific dreams for a domestic lifestyle that easily?

He zoned back in and realized that Shermie’s story had finally come to an end. Fiddleford looked satisfied by the ending, and so Ford decided to enact his previous plan… which was probably a bad plan, but he didn't have enough time to think up something better.

“Hey, Sherm,” he started off nervously; his words immediately earned her attention, “It's been really nice catching up with you and hearing about your s- sea? Um…?”

“Seashell collection,” Fiddleford whispered generously.

“Oh, Yes! Of course! Your seashell collection,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “ _however_ , I think that we should go to see our parents now.”

“Yeah! They would love to see you! Especially ma!” “ _only ma_ ,” Ford thought but he smiled anyways.

“Yeah! So, since it’s so cold out and because I drove here, would you like a ride back to the house with us?”

“Yeah, yeah! That sounds fun!”

“Okay, my car is right over ther--” before he could even finish the sentence, she had begun running in the direction that the car was in.

Instead of running after her and to the car, he decided to take a leisurely walk back to the car with Fidds. He was about to say something to him when he noticed Fiddleford stifling his laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Ford asked in confusion.

“You’re the only person I know who would use the word, “ _however_ ” in a sentence while addressing an actual child,” Fiddleford laughed.

“Shuddup,” Ford laughed back as he punched Fidds on the arm playfully.

The couple walked back to the car to find Shermie already sitting in the back seat. Ford wondered how she had got in when he noticed that the key was still in the ignition and that the doors to the car were unlocked.

In typical Pines fashion, he also noticed Shermie’s seat belt, or lack thereof. He was about to chide her when he realized that she hadn’t been taught to wear a seatbelt-- how typical. And Ford couldn’t say anything because the only reason that he started wearing a seatbelt is because he got tired of Fiddleford berating him every time they got in a vehicle together; now it was habit.

Ford shrugged at the misdemeanor and then assumed position at the front of the wheel when Fidds abruptly interjected.

“Uh, uh. Yah think that _you’re_ driving after how yah did the last time you were behind that wheel?"

“C’mon Fidds—”

“And now with a _child_ in the back?” he raised an eyebrow at Ford. They had a mini conversation through their eyes—not wanting to have a kerfuffle in front of the impressionable Shermie, (who had probably witnessed enough fights for a lifetime)—until Ford finally complied.

“Fine,” he groaned and scooted over to the passenger seat while Fiddleford grinned in triumph.

Fiddleford started to pull out of their makeshift parking space when he whispered to Ford, “Also, this way yah can have more time tah talk with Shermie.”

Stanford glared halfheartedly. “I can talk and drive simultaneously I’ll have you know.”

“Not very well,” Fiddleford mumbled just loud enough for Ford to hear it, a smug smile threatening to spill over his lips.

“Says the person who learned how to drive on a tractor,” Ford laughed; Fidds was about to retort when he heard Shermie interject on their lighthearted fight.

“You know how to drive a tractor?” she asked with stars in her eyes, “Here I am sitting here, never having even SEEN a tractor in real life before when you’ve DROVE one!”

“Well, that’s all there was tah drive!” Fiddleford continued to chat with her while it was taking everything in Stanford to keep from correcting her grammar... he would be such a horrible parent.

Their car drive lasted only a few minutes, with Shermine pointing out the streets Fiddleford was to take, until the group reached the damned street where the seemingly cursed home sat.

“Guess we’re here then,” Fiddleford commented and Stanford nodded. Shermie quickly threw open the door and started running up to the steps of the house-- it was amazing that she didn't slip, especially because of the snow. Stanford watched her go up to the house but made no move to get out of the car himself. Fiddleford had already gotten out of the car when he realized that Ford wasn't following. He opened the door again and stuck his head inside.

“Y’know, you can’t hide in here th’ whole time,” Fiddleford pointed out. Ford gave him a look that said, “don't you think I know that?” Fiddleford sighed and sat back in the car.

“Stanford--look,” he started out like he was going to say something, but then he just stopped talking. Stanford looked to him, confused as to why he wasn't getting some sort of pep talk, as was the usual, when he suddenly felt the weight of something on his lips. But just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. He suddenly realized that he had just been kissed; he felt his face heat up and he looked to Fiddleford who just sat there looking bored.

“Stanford; you can do this,” then he got out of the car, and started opening the trunk, getting out their luggage. Stanford sat in the car, now just because he was star struck, honestly. He brought two fingers up to his lips; his face still completely red. “ _Moses_ ,” he thought to himself. He was acting like he was 15 again and had just been kissed for the first time. He was snapped out of his lovesick haze to hear a couple raps on the window. Fiddleford gave him an encouraging though pointed look and nodded at the front door with his head. Stanford took a last second to stay in sanctuary before he ventured out into the bitter cold and up to the house.

Shermie had reached the door and was knocking reverently. He looked around for Fiddleford--not wanting to enter the house without him by his side, when he realized that he was still getting more luggage--just how much stuff did they bring? Ford sighed, and he realized that he couldn't keep stalling any longer, so he marched up to the door. When he got there, he noticed that Shermie was pressing her ear against the door.

“I think she’s coming!” “ _Weird kid_ ,” Ford thought affectionately. Just then, his thoughts were interrupted by the hinges on the door squeaking in an obscene way. He looked up to see his mother standing there, leaning against the doorframe, for the first time in years.


End file.
